I didn’t mean to do it.
I’m not even sure I did it.
Here’s what happened. I woke
early this morning to the sound of heavy rain and winds and the curtain blowing
across my face. The sky was dark and the
rain thundered against the tin roof of my house. Alfred Hitchcock would have loved it.
Company is coming for lunch so I started cleaning. I swept out the dirt and bugs which accumulated
over night, made the bed and shook out the rug I keep by the bed so I can wipe
my feet before getting under the covers.
Then I cleaned the dead bugs and lizard poop out of the kitchen sink and
threw away the ashes from the mosquito coil.
I used a brush and dustpan to wipe off the jalousie windows to get rid
of the collected dirt and lizard poop. I
used the same brush to wipe the termite detritus off the kitchen counter. Not to worry, I then wiped down the counter
with soap and water.
Next, I headed to the bathroom, where I swept, wiped off the
sink and shook out the rug. I killed,
collected and disposed of a variety of bugs and spiders that had decided to
make my shower their home.
I used TP to wipe the rat poop and pee off the outside of
the toilet/tank. Then I grabbed the
brush to clean the inside of the toilet.
I didn’t look at it. Do you
examine your toilet brush before you start using it? I’m guessing not.
The next thing I knew there was something in the toilet
along with the brush. At first I thought
it was a roach wing but then it started moving.
Wriggling frantically. It was a lizard. Not a gecko but a small black lizard, the
kind I hate.
Geckos are athletic and acrobatic. They can crawl upside down on the ceiling
without breathing hard. I’ve seen them
having sex while hanging on a wall. Try
that without a safety harness. Geckos
could have an act in Cirque du Soleil if they just had a manager to promote
them.
The black lizards, on the other hand, think they have the
skills of a gecko but don’t. Which is
why they’ve fallen on my face in the middle of the night on three different
occasions. They think they can walk
upside down on the ceiling but they can’t.
I’ve never seen them having sex in precarious positions. Only doing it lizard style on the floor.
I’m telling you all this to explain that it wasn’t a gecko
in the toilet bowl, it was a black lizard.
A gecko would have sneered at the swirling water that could lead to
death and run up the side of the bowl.
But not the black lizard who’d apparently been napping on my toilet
brush when I dumped him in.
He was scrambling to get out of the water. I was using the brush to give him something
to hang on to, but that seemed to make him panic even more. Yes, I could have just reached in, grabbed him
and taken him safely outside but I have rules about not putting my bare hand in
a toilet to grab a frantic lizard. Or
anything else, for that matter.
He finally crawled to what he thought was safety, under the
lip of the bowl. I once again decided
against grabbing. I also decided against
repeated flushing to send him to a watery grave. Instead, I shut the bathroom door and started
typing this blog.
Will he live? I don’t
know. Will he find a way to escape? It’s in God’s hands. Will one of my guests sit down on the toilet
and get the surprise of their lives when a lizard pops out from under
them? Hopefully. Am I cruel in letting this Animal Kingdom
act play out? Perhaps. But I’m already laughing out loud in
anticipation. Heck, I’ve experienced the
“lizard under your butt in the toilet” thrill and lived to talk about it, why
not share the fun?
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